


the space between

by last



Category: BTOB
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last/pseuds/last
Summary: when the end of the world is suddenly fast approaching and everybody’s got a week left to live, ilhoon attempts to reconnect with his ex.





	1. 7

**Author's Note:**

> hi again, i haven’t quite disappeared! anyway, this is a bittersweet fic of could-have-beens and obligatory domesticity with the premise inspired by _seeking a friend for the end of the world_. think of it as a story of second chances, although cut short. i wasn’t going to chapter it at first, but it just made sense with the length and the sluggish pace i’ve been working at. (by the way, arin = (min)joo. [she changed her name](http://instagram.com/joo.a_rin), in case there’s any confusion!)
> 
> oh, and you may have noticed that i now tag my fics as “im hyunsik/jung ilhoon” (so a belated apology to the tag wranglers and if i had frightened anybody). i know it probably doesn’t seem necessary, but this is for the sake of not confusing the korean melodies who i have noticed also read my writing. (name order and what have you.) without further ado, on with the fic!
> 
> **warnings: (obvious and eventual) character death, mentions of suicide.**

The first thing Arin asks Ilhoon each evening when she returns from work and finds him lying there in the living room, motionless, is if he’s still alive.

He doesn’t really bother responding anymore. Wake up for class, come home again and try to make it through another night – that’s all there is to life for now and it feels so stagnant. Not that he would do anything himself, but if it was to suddenly come to an end he probably wouldn’t hate it. At least then he’d no longer bear the weight of everybody’s expectations that he’ll actually make something of himself. Three years into college, he’s not the high school overachiever he used to be. They don’t seem to get that.

He rolls over and simply blinks at Arin’s face, doesn’t care for the look she’s giving him but doesn’t blame her either.

“Mom called just then,” she says, and she lets out a quiet sigh. “Told me to try and get you out somewhere tonight, but I know that’s not going to happen.”

“Where is there to go around here anyway?” he rolls his eyes at her. “A bar? I’d rather d—”

“Don’t say that,” she crosses her arms as she walks a little closer to the couch. “Actually, a bar might not be such a bad idea. You could meet somebody new.”

“No thanks.”

“Come on, you’ll have to one day,” she insists.

“One day, sure, but not yet. I’m still trying to get over myself so if you don’t mind,” he inhales deeply through his nose. “I’d like to continue wallowing in my misery until then.”

“Ilhoon—”

“We could watch a movie. I wouldn’t mind that,” he finds it in him to give her a smile, a quick change of heart because he doesn’t mean to be like this.

“Alright,” she agrees.

They have dinner first. Arin cooks as usual – as if Ilhoon ever does and she doesn’t quite trust him to anyway. She fries some leftover rice with Spam and an egg, and Ilhoon certainly has no room to complain when he can’t do much better. Besides, he actually likes it even if it isn’t the definition of fine dining. It’s simple, reminds him of his school days and when he had some life left inside of him. Being an adult, although an odd excuse for one, isn’t what it was cracked up to be back then.

He takes a final spoonful and takes his bowl to the kitchen sink before heading for his room. He grabs the cap he had worn to class today from his bed and pulls it on, then a light jacket. It’s warm again these days and he’s finally retired his scarves and gloves until winter comes rolling back around.

“Somebody’s eager,” Arin says from across the apartment as she shuts the refrigerator door, two cans of soda in her hands. “Give me a minute, will you?”

She stuffs them into her handbag and Ilhoon considers it too lucky that their nearest cinema doesn’t bother checking. He waits by the front door as she hurries to her room, returning moments later in a cardigan and her glasses. She locks the place up and they leave.

It’s only a quick walk, no more than fifteen minutes. That’s the convenience of living right in the city, Ilhoon supposes, even if it can be noisy at the worst times. Arin purchases tickets for the next screening of a recent and widely raved about action comedy film – romance is strictly off of Ilhoon’s list and horror always seems like a good idea until it’s over. All he wants is to enjoy the night.

They sit as far back as possible, although there’s quite a number of people in here and they seem to have had similar ideas. Arin passes Ilhoon his can of lemonade before the lights dim, and so far he doesn’t regret coming out. Maybe they could do this more often, he thinks, just baby steps until he isn’t so fed up with the way things have gone anymore. The film starts and he grits his teeth.

He takes sips of his drink between laughs, occasionally nudges Arin with his elbow even if she’s catching all of this like he is. It’s better than he had expected it to be and everything feels okay.

“Had fun?” she asks him as they exit the screen.

He tosses his can into a trash can when he passes it, “Mm, yeah. It wasn’t bad.”

The lobby is oddly energetic as they’re making their way through it. There’s plenty of chatter, people wandering around almost frantically. Perhaps something has happened, but the two of them are leaving the building and it isn’t any of their concern.

It’s pretty dark outside now. It could just be Ilhoon, but everybody seems to be rushing about tonight and it all feels somewhat hectic even though it’s late. Well, it is the city – it isn’t too unusual. It’s not like he really bothers to keep up with the local goings-on so of course he wouldn’t know if there’s a kind of event to be at. He lights a cigarette, to Arin’s expected displeasure, and blocks out the world. He just wants to be home again.

He claims the bathroom before Arin has the chance. A hot shower always gets him sleepy without fail and he has an early class in the morning which he actually, believe it or not, plans to attend. Doesn’t want to, kind of has to – he’s already had a minor warning about his attendance and, as much as he hates it, he doesn’t fancy being kicked out when graduation is supposed to be this summer. He’s made it this far and he isn’t going to let the past few years go to waste.

He pulls on a hoodie and his worn out pair of sweatpants before stepping back out into the living room. Arin’s got the news on and there are images of the night sky on the television. He walks a little closer to find out what the big deal is. A new planet? They’re always discovering those these days, or maybe another eclipse is coming up.

And then he reads the headline and his first thought is that this has got to be a sick joke.

There’s an asteroid headed straight for Earth. All efforts to stop it, including a last hope mission that had concluded earlier today, have utterly failed. The reporter claims that there isn’t enough time for another attempt before impact.

“Ilhoon,” Arin turns to him and her voice, barely there, shakes. “We’re going to die,” she swallows down hard. “They said that we’ll be gone in a week, if that.”

A week. It starts to sink in, and Ilhoon feels completely numb all over.

“I think—I’m just going to go and lie down for a bit,” Arin gets up without switching off the television and she heads for her room.

Her door shuts with a click and Ilhoon’s left standing here, the news report still going. His eyes lower to the ground and they stay there, and his mind fills with white noise.


	2. 6

Morning still comes as normal. Figuring that there probably isn’t any point in attending anymore, Ilhoon doesn’t budge from his bed rather than get ready for class. Once he finds the energy to actually move, he grabs his phone from the table beside him and checks his inbox. There’s a single email in there and it turns out that everything has been cancelled anyway. Perhaps he’ll actually enjoy the week then.

He sits up when Arin pushes his door open and she’s all dressed for day.

“I’m going to Mom and Dad’s,” she says, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder. “I know that you’d rather stay here, so take care of yourself, alright?”

He knows it himself that it’s true, but hearing it like that only reminds him of how much better he could be if he tried.

“You aren’t coming back?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she glances away for a second. “I mean, a week isn’t very long. I just want to use this time wisely.”

Even Ilhoon realises that he can’t keep avoiding them forever, “I’ll come over one day.”

“Let me know when and I can pick you up,” she offers him a smile although it isn’t much. “Ilhoon. They aren’t going to be disappointed in you, you know. Besides, it’s not like your grades or any of that matter anymore. They’ll just want to see you.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I know.”

“By the way, just because I won’t be around doesn’t mean you can start smoking in here. You’ll set the alarm off, remember.”

“ _Alright_ , I’m not that stupid,” he insists, but only half-heartedly.

It isn’t until he hears the front door latch and Arin lock it that he feels well and truly alone. That’s his own doing though, so he has no right to mope about it. He should at least take his morning shower and have some breakfast. He’ll go about life as usual like this is just a vacation, make things easy for himself, then he’ll gracefully accept the end as the entire planet meets its destruction. Simple.

He pours himself a glass of orange juice and sits down in the kitchen with a muffin close to expiration. He’ll let his hair dry on its own since he has nowhere to be and nobody to see. He scrolls through his phone for a possibility that not everything being posted online is about humankind’s impending doom. Aside from a few dog videos here and there, he doesn’t have much luck. He deletes several apps to avoid it all, then opens up his contacts.

He ought to call his parents even if he’ll visit them eventually. Dad is the less difficult of the two to speak to, but he’s also far more stubborn deep down inside and Ilhoon would rather that he didn’t demand that he come over to spend the entire week with them. He won’t be able to stand the suffocating sense of dread that’ll be in that house.

He scrolls a bit and he pauses. His finger hovers over a name for longer than a second, one he hasn’t made any real contact with in months now – _Hyunsik-hyung_. He presses it.

He stares at his number for a while, wonders if he’s still using the same one as he attempts to rationalise calling him or not trying at all. He eventually forces himself to go ahead and he holds his breath, half-hoping that nobody will pick up and that he’ll hit a dead end. But he keeps on waiting.

Hyunsik answers soon enough.

“Hello?” his voice still sounds exactly as Ilhoon remembers, and he’s terrified when this is what used to soothe him the most.

“Hi,” he replies, despite the burning hesitation inside of him. “Hyung—um, you must have heard—”

“The news? Yes,” Hyunsik says, and of course he has. That was such a stupid question. “It’s been a while, Ilhoon-ah.”

“Yeah, it has,” he slowly nods to himself, needs to be calm about this. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to speak to you again.”

“It’s okay. We’re friends, right?” Hyunsik quietly laughs through the speaker. That’s what they had agreed to be but Ilhoon couldn’t even bring himself to wish Hyunsik a happy birthday last month and they most certainly haven’t spoken since then. Rather than friends, they aren’t really anything anymore. “I was thinking about calling you too.”

Frankly, Ilhoon isn’t sure if he’s just saying that, “But were you going to?”

“I don’t know. Eventually, I guess? I didn’t want to remind you of the distance and... you know, everything.”

“Right,” Ilhoon bites down on his bottom lip because Hyunsik hasn’t changed a bit and maybe here he was hoping that he had miraculously become the type of person he’d hate, or just say something wrong for once so he’d at least have a reason to hang up right now and leave it at that. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“Hm? Well, work has pretty much been suspended indefinitely.”

“Same for my classes.”

And then utter silence, the longest they’ve shared since that phone call back in January. Ilhoon’s got no idea when his breathing became this loud but it’s all he can hear and he knows that if he lets this end, he won’t speak to Hyunsik again.

“Anyway, I’m glad that you called me—”

“Hyung,” he interrupts and desperation’s pushing him harder than ever. No point in turning back now, he supposes. “I... I really want to see you,” he spits it out. “Could you just— _please come over_. One last time.”

“I can leave right now,” Hyunsik doesn’t even question him, his intentions which he’s just as unsure of himself. “I have a feeling that the roads could be busy, so give me up to two hours.”

“I won’t be going anywhere,” Ilhoon says before ending the call.

And then he drops his face into his palm and his cold, unfinished toast has never looked less appealing. He wasn’t supposed to fall back into this again, but the world wasn’t supposed to end either and yet here they both are.

He eats the rest anyway since he went through the effort of making it in the first place. He’ll wash up later, once Hyunsik’s gone, when his insides are no longer twisted and his nerves have stopped trembling. For now he curls up on the couch and he shuts his eyes, loathes himself for everything – having the guts to even speak to Hyunsik out of the blue, the entire breakup that was nobody’s fault but his own.

There was nothing wrong with Hyunsik moving back to his hometown for work once he had graduated. He had tried to visit as often as possible – sometimes two weekends in a row – but neither of them had realised how tiring it would be until the initial enthusiasm had faded. Calls, both voice and video, were decent enough for what they are, but when they had spent Hyunsik’s final year of college cuddling up in front of his television and sleeping in his bed on the best of nights, the difference was staggering. Still, they kept it up and perhaps they were happy with what they had.

It’s just that Ilhoon can be so insecure at times, lets things get to him that he shouldn’t. The idea that Hyunsik deserved more than that— _him_ —and that he had simply become an inconvenience to him at that point wouldn’t quit. Hyunsik was always the one chasing after him, putting in the work, when he could’ve had somebody right there at home instead. He was settling.

Ilhoon buries his face into the armrest and he tries not to relive it again. He’d have never ended it if he could go back. He’d allow his selfishness, his greed to take over, keep Hyunsik as his. Sure, the months they had spent apart yet together were tough, but these past few have been hell. It’s only now that Ilhoon’s managed to push his pride aside, but part of him wants to believe that late is better than not at all.

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon’s startled awake by heavy knocks on the door although he doesn’t exactly recall drifting off. He hurries over and checks the eyehole just in case.

Hyunsik’s standing in the hallway, and Ilhoon prays that he hasn’t been left waiting for long – he really didn’t intend to fall asleep like that. He assumes that somebody had let Hyunsik into the building, or the possibility that he had remembered the code although he won’t question how or why. He unlocks the door.

“Hey,” Hyunsik greets him and he looks no different to the last time he had seen him – that means good, near enough flawless, whatever else comes to mind – meanwhile his roots are overgrown and he’s been wearing the same sweatshirt for days. He realises that it was Hyunsik’s and he prays that he’s forgotten.

He steps aside to let him in, “Sorry, I dozed off.”

“Oh, did I wake you? I only just got here,” he shuts the door behind him, and he takes a quick look at the apartment but it hasn’t changed much since he last visited. “Is your sister not around?”

“No, she left to stay with our parents,” he pauses just to breathe, and he guesses what’s on Hyunsik’s mind. “I know, I suck.”

“I don’t think that,” he shakes his head. “I’m sure that none of us know how to deal with this.”

Perhaps, but some at least have it in them to put differences aside and be with the people they should. Ilhoon’s uncertain as to whether Hyunsik actually counts as one of them even if it was a leap to call him again. They head for the couch after Ilhoon offers him a drink as a polite gesture to kill the silence and then they’re sitting there, a bit of distance between them but Ilhoon knows that being any closer than this wouldn’t feel right. He senses something different about Hyunsik and he inhales.

That’s it.

He looks over at Hyunsik and he asks, “Did you stop smoking?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I did.”

“I always hated that about you,” Ilhoon replies without quite thinking it through.

“Maybe that’s why I quit.”

Whatever that means. Ilhoon would question him on it but he doesn’t exactly want to find out. It’s too late for that now. Hyunsik’s the reason why he had picked up the habit himself, and again he’s been left behind. He loathes the taste so much yet it always reminds him of Hyunsik.

“I should have asked already,” Hyunsik almost smiles at him. “How have you been? Still working hard at college?”

_A wreck, and you know that doesn’t matter anymore, but don’t be silly and act as if I was ever a diligent student._

“Fine, and I guess so,” he shrugs. “I don’t know, who cares.”

“Sorry, I’m just trying to make things seem normal.”

Ilhoon knows that, and he knows that he should stop being so standoffish when he’s the one who invited Hyunsik over in the first place. He knows that this will most likely be the last opportunity he’ll ever have.

“Hyung,” he figures that he ought to try reviving the conversation. “Why did you even come—I mean, why would you want to—”

“Closure,” Hyunsik sounds calm. “Perhaps that is what we’re both after.”

“I told you, I ended it so you could do better—”

“And what is this ‘better’ you’re talking about again?” he would come across as actually angry if his voice wasn’t still so soft, if he didn’t always hold back. “When did I ever say that that was what I was after? Could you tell me what _you_ actually wanted, Ilhoon?”

And that’s about as confrontational as Hyunsik will ever get, and ever has been. It brings the hesitation running back again anyway, makes Ilhoon’s eyes water just a bit but he can control it. He swears he can.

“I wanted you to call me again,” he admits for the first time, and he thinks it all through before he stutters, “I just—I wanted to hear you tell me that you loved me, that I had made a mistake, that everything would be okay, but you never did.”

“You specifically told me not to contact you. I respected that.”

Ilhoon knows that – he knows, he knows, he knows. It was him, not Hyunsik. He was the one who ruined everything that they had on his own, he’s the person so stubborn that there was no use trying to change his mind. He knows that.

“I wanted you to hate me—no, I still do, and I’m so desperate for a reason to hate you too, but I don’t have one,” he confesses and it’s far too late now. He shuts his eyes and lets the words spill out as they please. “Can’t you just—tell me that I’m a fucking idiot, a waste of space, that you regret ever having been with me.”

“I can’t,” Hyunsik replies, plain and simple. He shakes his head to himself. “The thing is, I still feel the same,” his eyes meet Ilhoon’s again, hold their gaze as if to tell him he’s completely serious until Ilhoon looks away first. “I’m always going to love you, you know.”

And Ilhoon doesn’t say a word, isn’t entirely sure if he can. He could push the blame onto Hyunsik if he tried, wonder for the rest of the week why he didn’t just walk back into his life again if he had wanted to, but he could ask himself the exact same question and the answer wouldn’t be any better. His mouth runs dry and he feels Hyunsik shift on the couch.

“I guess it’s about time for me to leave then,” he mutters, standing up.

He pauses, looks over to the front door and then back at Ilhoon. If he leaves now, it’ll be the end – over for good this time.

As he takes a step, Ilhoon blurts it out, “I don’t want you to go.”

And he starts to smile as if nothing’s wrong with the world, “I was waiting for that.”

He checks his watch and Ilhoon’s stomach rumbles, right on cue. Hyunsik lets out a quiet laugh at that and he crosses his arms.

“I’ll make lunch then. What shall we have today, Ilhoon-ah?”

Somehow, it almost feels as if they had never been apart. Almost, because Ilhoon doesn’t forget his own mistakes so easily.

 

 

 

 

Hyunsik heated up a tin of soup that had been sitting at the back of a cupboard and toasted some bread to go along with it – nothing much, yet Ilhoon still feels rather guilty about it. The least he could have done was make Hyunsik feel at home, but even now he can’t cook much more than instant noodles and admitting that he’s made little to no progress whatsoever on becoming an adult isn’t something that he wants to confront today. Not after this morning’s confessions.

Ilhoon takes a last spoonful before resting his arms across the table, outstretched towards Hyunsik who had finished eating around ten minutes ago at the very least.

“Did you eat earlier?” he asks as he always has done.

“A bit,” Ilhoon nods, not actually lying.

“Mmm,” Hyunsik reaches out and his hand meets Ilhoon’s, his fingertips sliding over and past his knuckles until a halt. “That’s good to hear.”

“Hyung, we—” he resists pulling away. “I don’t know if we can go back to how we used to be just like that.”

He swallows down as he watches the look on Hyunsik’s face slowly change, and he reminds himself that they both want the same thing even if it takes until the end of the week. There’s no use in holding it in now.

“But I... I want you to stay with me,” his hand stays unmoved, surrounded by Hyunsik’s warmth. “Because I’m still as selfish as ever and I—”

“It’s okay, I’m not going to disappear,” he says, lightly patting Ilhoon’s skin with his fingers. “I’ll always wait for you.”

He mouths a ‘thank you’ back because the words can’t quite make it out, but Hyunsik understands all the same. He finally smiles to himself.

“I’ll tell you what,” Hyunsik tilts his head to think. “I’ll go back to my place tomorrow to grab everything I need, spend the afternoon with my parents, and then I’ll return.”

“Spend the day with them,” Ilhoon insists. Surely he isn’t _that_ important. “I should visit mine too, maybe stop being so difficult for once.”

“Alright, but for the record I don’t think you’re diffi—”

“Yeah, but you’re _you_.”

“And you’re still my favourite person.”

Ilhoon tries his best to roll his eyes but he can’t help but laugh, “Oh, stop it.”

It’s kind of funny when he has the chance to think about it – that underneath everything, they haven’t really changed at all. Of course he’s still his same old self – being as stubborn as he is, he isn’t even much different to his teenage self – but so is Hyunsik and maybe he’s more relieved than ever that he hadn’t become somebody else during the past few months, that he’s the Hyunsik he remembers.

 

 

 

 

Lying awake for perhaps two hours now wasn’t what Ilhoon had intended, although he should be used to it when this is what almost every night has been like for weeks. At least being left alone with only his thoughts isn’t as suffocating as it usually is when he can remind himself that Hyunsik is here again and that he miraculously doesn’t hate him.

He’s sleeping with a blanket on the couch – insisted that he would when Ilhoon’s still feeling uneasy and, like a true gentleman, would absolutely not consider Arin’s room at all. He’s too sweet for his own good and Ilhoon honestly wouldn’t have minded sleeping together in the most chaste sense.

He takes the empty glass from his bedside table and heads for the door to the living room, carefully pushes it open and creeps out to find Hyunsik lying there. He takes a moment to silently observe him, so peaceful even when he’s in the same clothes he had arrived in this morning and his neck is bent backwards over the armrest. Ilhoon feels bad for him, actually.

He makes his way towards the kitchen and sets his glass down on the counter. He fills two thirds with water and takes a sip to relieve the dryness in his mouth. Figuring that he probably won’t be sleeping soon anyway, he pulls open the refrigerator door for a browse.

And then there’s the sound of the couch rising in the distance, the blanket (he assumes) being pushed aside. He freezes as he hears Hyunsik’s gentle footsteps behind him and he pretends not to notice. He feigns indecisiveness in picking something out when it’s the hesitation spreading from the back of his mind that’s stopping him from turning around.

He grabs an apple that he doesn’t even want and forces himself to face Hyunsik as he shuts the door, “Did I wake you,”

“No,” he shakes his head although he doesn’t seem fully conscious yet.

“Then is there something that you need—”

“Ilhoon,” he takes one step closer and his voice is heavy yet hushed. “What I said earlier, I really meant it. And I don’t mind if you need all of the time in the world because I—”

“Hyung,” Ilhoon clutches his apple tight in case it slips from his grasp and he looks Hyunsik right in the eye. “I really messed up, didn’t I?”

And he should know what Hyunsik’s answer will be, but he just wants to hear it.

“No, because it isn’t too late.”

He walks nearer and nearer to the point that Ilhoon can hear his breathing past his own heartbeats, can almost feel his touch when it’s just his body heat in the thickening air between them until his arms actually wrap around him. He shuts his eyes as he’s pulled closer, towards Hyunsik’s chest, his face burying into his shoulder without him meaning to – and he stays there, utterly still. Even if he wants more than anything to hold him tight, too, and to never make the mistake of letting him go again, he resists, his arms unmoved by his side.

He could cry if he would allow himself, but for now he’s got it in him to keep it together. Maybe it’s Hyunsik’s hands running along his back like they used to, or that tiny piece of pride that hasn’t crumbled yet – whatever it is, it’s keeping him here, slumped against Hyunsik in complete silence.

“Ilhoon-ah,” he mutters, but he doesn’t let go. “Get some sleep.”

“I’ve been trying.”

“Then, let’s talk for a while.”

Ilhoon agrees for some nagging reason at the back of his mind, even if he isn’t sure that this is what he wants right now when they’ve done nothing but confront unanswered questions all day. He won’t be sleeping yet anyway. They sit on the couch under dim lighting, just the lamp in the corner that’s enough to keep the look on Hyunsik’s face visible. Soft, even calm, but something about it breaks Ilhoon’s heart and he has no idea why.

“I can’t quite figure out how to put this into words, but I’ve been wanting to tell you this,” Hyunsik pauses to cover Ilhoon’s bare knees with the blanket he had been sleeping with. “While we were apart—listen, not once did I even think about being with anybody else, no matter how lonely I felt on some nights. And you know me, I’m not scared of anything, but right now I am,” he admits with a tiny laugh as if he’s being judged here. “That our business will remain unfinished, does that make any sense?”

“Were we both just going to continue on like that,”

“To tell you the truth, I had always thought that we’d be together again someday. I guess that’s because you—you’re the love of my life, and I wanted to keep hoping,” he smiles a little and it almost doesn’t hurt when he says, “didn’t think it would be because of something like this, though.”

A moment of impulsiveness that could have entirely changed these past months comes running back and, as if he couldn’t be filled with any more regret, Ilhoon loathes himself.

“I had actually called you once, hadn’t I,” he leans back on the couch and he breathes in, taking his time. “On a night when I was on my own and drank a bit even though I still hate the taste of alcohol, I called you. And you answered, but the second that I heard your voice again I couldn’t say anything, so I just listened, and I waited for you to hang up but you didn’t. It was me, again. I was the one who let everything go.”

“You don’t need to keep blaming yourself. Besides, I should’ve said something more, but I thought it was a mistake.”

“But that’s the thing here. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Ilhoon,” Hyunsik calls his name and he tilts his head a little. “Could I ask you one question,” Ilhoon nods although he’s hesitant to find out what it is that’s on his mind. “Do you still love me—”

“Yes—yes, of course I do, that’s why I called you in the first place—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I just think that that’s what we should be focusing on,” Hyunsik places his hand on Ilhoon’s and he lets him hold it. “I mean, the world isn’t going to wait for us.”

He’s right about that, and Ilhoon knows that he can’t keep dwelling on this when all they have is six days left, even if he’ll never be able to forgive himself. Hyunsik’s here now, isn’t that what he had wanted? The two of them still feel the same, so is that not enough—

“I’m sorry, let’s just get some rest and maybe tomorrow—”

“Hyung, have you hated sleeping alone,” he mumbles, trying not to make it sound like too much of an invitation. “Because I know I have.”

“As have I,” Hyunsik takes him by the hand – he hadn’t let go – and he’s certainly gotten the hint.

One thing Ilhoon knows for sure is that he’s never slept as easily as when he was with Hyunsik, and perhaps he’ll be tense at first as he gets used to it again but this is how things are meant to be – the way they had jokingly planned their lives to turn out, eternally entwined. They’d have their own place, they said, and they’d need nobody else but each other. Of course, when reality hit, it was clear to them that it wouldn’t be as easy at that.

Ilhoon curls up on the left side of his bed and leaves a good amount of space for Hyunsik. It’s up to him if he wants to come any closer – Ilhoon doesn’t have the guts.

He shuts his eyes tighter the second he senses Hyunsik’s body heat against his skin, the subtle sound of his arms slowly moving towards him under the sheets and he assumes they’re going to reach him until—nothing at all. Hyunsik’s still holding back, and so is he, but the only thing he craves right now is his touch and stopping himself from crossing the boundary he had set just isn’t worth the effort.

Hyunsik was right. They don’t have the time.

So he hugs him, presses his face right into his chest so he doesn’t have to _see_ a thing and subsequently get all embarrassed about this. Hyunsik’s probably smiling – well, no doubt about it – and his hands on Ilhoon take him back for a moment, make his heart swell with undeniable happiness, nothing else. This could be the first night in a long, long time that he’ll actually sleep enough to feel awake when morning comes.


	3. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thought you’d seen the last of me? well, first of all, i believe that an apology is in order since i didn’t intend to be inactive for so long. life has been busy, but i will not leave this unfinished even if it takes me a decade to complete. secondly, many thanks to everybody who has been patiently waiting. i'm terribly sorry that i only have one chapter to offer today, but i hope that you’ll enjoy it enough until next time. (i _promise_ that i’m working on it!)

Ilhoon was always the first to wake up whenever they had spent the night together. Apparently, that hasn’t changed. His own face is far too close to Hyunsik’s for his liking when it takes a short moment for him to recall how they had ended up like this in the first place, and luckily Hyunsik’s hold on him isn’t so firm that he can’t create some distance between them. He wipes the slight moisture from his eyes, wonders if the dream he can’t seem to remember had broken his heart and that’s the reason why he feels the way he does right now – hollow, perhaps.

He manages to ease himself out of Hyunsik’s arms and grabs his lighter and a cigarette from the bedside table. He steps out onto the balcony and pushes the door shut behind him, just to be polite. Hyunsik seemed so at peace, untouched even, back in the bedroom. His face has filled out a bit more, his skin is looking healthier than it used to that close up – maybe being apart had been for the better for him, but not Ilhoon. The lit cigarette between his lips tastes as bitter as he’s feeling and he would drop it to the ground and crush it if he was strong enough to let it go.

Instead, he sighs.

He isn’t certain if it’s to his disappointment or relief when Hyunsik’s still asleep as he creeps back inside, his arms completely unmoved like he had never left him. He should have stayed with him, he really could have. He leaves for the bathroom to freshen up before Hyunsik can see him again, even attempt to cover up the dark circles under his eyes with the concealer Arin had given him out of consideration a while ago. He doesn’t actually know if there’s any point in trying to be presentable.

He exits to the living area and Hyunsik’s at the door of his bedroom, utterly unpredicted.

He smiles although he doesn’t seem fully awake yet, “Morning.”

“I had to use the bathroom—”

“I can see that,” he quietly laughs to himself, and it’s fine. “I’m not _upset_ , trust me.”

“Are you leaving early?”

“Whenever I feel like it,” he shrugs. “Let’s eat first.”

“Okay.”

 **[10:02] ilhoon:** i’m coming over later

 **[10:02] ilhoon:** let mom and dad know

Ilhoon takes it upon himself to at least make some tea while Hyunsik’s busy in the bathroom. If there’s something that he can’t seem to forget, it’s that Hyunsik likes one sugar while he prefers two, and that he’s rarely trusted to handle much else in the kitchen. It takes effort to go wrong with tea though. He pours in the milk and stirs it in.

“What shall we have?” Hyunsik wanders over and he leans into the refrigerator.

Ilhoon slides over his mug, “I don’t know. Eggs?”

“One scrambled and one omelette, coming up,” Hyunsik grins – those are their preferences, have been from the very start and he’d cook them up almost each time they had woken up with each other, whether it was at his own place or here.

Ashamed to admit it even to himself, Ilhoon had never bothered learning how to cook eggs and he definitely had no intention to whatsoever after the breakup. It was their thing – so ordinary to anybody else, but stupidly special to him. And he could say that Arin sometimes cooks them better than Hyunsik does, perhaps it’s in the technique or an extra pinch of something, but she doesn’t cook them like him.

Ilhoon places a plate of bread on the table and he sits down as Hyunsik finishes up.

“Here, Hoonie,” he eventually joins him.

It’s been too long since Ilhoon was last called that but he had become so accustomed to answering to it that he doesn’t think twice about it. He still likes the sound of it – had missed it.

“Are your parents alright with this,” he looks over to Hyunsik as he picks up his fork. “I mean, you being with me rather than—”

“I can do whatever I want,” Hyunsik shrugs, and he smiles. “I’ve basically spent every day of the past year with them, haven’t I?”

The funniest thing is that Hyunsik’s parents actually liked Ilhoon a whole lot – at least once that they had accepted that the son they were counting on to settle down and start a family had, in fact, taken another path. Sure, Ilhoon wasn’t the most impressive catch back then either, but he was doing better than this. He had a future ahead of him, they must have believed.

Luckily none of them do now, he supposes, as awful as it is to think about it like that. He doesn’t have to disappoint everybody any further when they’re all destined for the same fate. Still, he doesn’t feel particularly great about this even if Hyunsik wants it too. He’s nothing but the person who had thrown away everything Hyunsik had given him, after all. Whether he deserves his time is undoubtedly questionable, but he’s also got to realise that at the end of the day it’s up to Hyunsik. He reckons that he should have learned his lesson by now.

Too bad that old habits die hard.

It’s only after washing the dishes that Ilhoon didn’t even ask him to do that Hyunsik’s ready to set off back home. He’s standing by the door and Ilhoon’s got his jacket in his hands.

Hyunsik takes it from him, “See you in the evening.”

And he completely freezes when Hyunsik leans in, confident yet cautious, and presses a barely there kiss to the side of his cheek.

Flustered regardless, he nods, “Have a safe drive.”

That’s what he would always say whenever it was time for goodbye, and then a bittersweet sort of feeling would fill up his heart. It’s right there, right now, uncertain if this whole thing between them should be happening again. He just can’t help it.

 

 

 

 

It’s always the fear of facing them that has Ilhoon delay visiting his parents, the looks of pity but more so dissatisfaction that he hadn’t amounted to the son that they had hoped for. It’s one thing that he’d never marry a woman like they had dreamed although they had already suspected so long ago, but it’s an entirely different story that he’s also become a shadow of his former self throughout the past year. They could at least handle having a gay son when he was actually doing rather okay in life and Hyunsik happened to be the best person he would ever manage to bring home, but with both redeeming qualities gone they’ve been viewing him more and more as a burden.

He doesn’t quite despise them for it though, or exactly blame them. Hell, he pretty much feels the same way about himself, but as if he needs them to remind him of his every downfall as well.

He tries to dress up nicely for them anyway, thinking it may distract them from the usual if they notice that he’s made an effort. Perhaps the only thing they’ll even care about is the end of the world, but he knows them and if there’s something to nitpick at, they’ll cling to it no matter what.

Hyunsik had left a while ago now, probably longer than Ilhoon guesses. He figures that he ought to get going too. He shuts the front door and locks it after thinking through whether he’s forgotten anything. As he takes a few steps along the hallway, the neighbour in the apartment across from his is leaving the elevator. He nods at her before they pass by each other.

“Oh, Ilhoon! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she greets him all too cheerfully, but that’s simply her usual self. She’s an older lady, endlessly kind although Ilhoon doesn’t know her that well himself. She slightly lowers her voice, “just a quick warning before you head down. There’s a bit of a scene outside, an unpleasant one. A resident from—maybe floor fifty-something, I believe, leapt from their balcony this morning. I know, it’s so awful.”

His eyes widen as he certainly didn’t expect that. He’s taken aback for a moment but she continues on.

“How have you been, anyway?” she asks him. “Despite all of this, I mean.”

“I’m actually not too bad at the moment,” he reckons.

“Ah, that’s great to hear,” she nods, even reaches out to gently squeeze his shoulder. “I happened to run into Arin as she was leaving yesterday. Have you been all alone in there?”

“I was with a friend,” he replies and he doesn’t bother elaborating any further on that. “I’m about to visit my parents too.”

“Well, send them my best wishes, will you? Take care, Ilhoon.”

“Will do,” he replies with a polite smile, but he most likely won’t pass on a single word.

He steps into the elevator and all he’s thinking about is how to get through the day in one piece.

 

 

 

 

It’s just in time for lunch when Ilhoon knocks on the door after a dozen mental pep talks to himself. He supposes that he should be thankful that his dad doesn’t seem all that disappointed to see him standing there. He isn’t delighted either, of course, but rather relieved that he’s even bothered to show up, perhaps. He’ll take it.

“Nice of you to come,” he hears as he slides off his shoes and on a pair of slippers. He doesn’t respond. “Food’s almost ready, if you want to sit and wait. Be good to your mother, alright? She’s been worrying about you.”

He’ll bet that she has, and he doesn’t want to hear any of it. He joins Arin at the dining table and she gives him a smile.

“I’m proud of you,” she tells him, and he stops himself from rolling his eyes like he wants to. “How was yesterday, anyway?”

“I did something crazy,” he admits, biting down on his lip straight after.

“What—don’t tell me you...” she leans in a bit and even lowers her voice. “This is to do with Hyunsik, isn’t it—”

“Who else,” he can’t help but frown because she had probably known that this would happen, and he hates being this predictable. “I’m being selfish again.”

“Are you?”

“Dragging the man I dumped back into my life? I’d think so.”

“Well, if you ask me—”

“Hope you’re both hungry,” they both shut up as Mom sets down a platter of kimbap – freshly made. “You’d better eat up, Ilhoon. What have you had today?”

“Eggs,” he replies and Arin shoots him a sudden glance.

“Oh, did you learn—”

“No.”

She doesn’t quite realise what that implies, and Ilhoon’s far too hesitant to get into it for the time being. He’ll simply stuff his face and keep quiet for as long as he can – that’s the easy way.

“So, what were you up to yesterday? You should have come with Arin,” she almost nags and Ilhoon is pretty sure that he can sense the bone that she’s about to pick with him.

“I stayed at home.”

“Is that it? Thought you would’ve at least had a good reason,” she says, stone-faced.

“You know me,” Ilhoon replies as bluntly as her – everybody’s always said that he takes after her. “I was just overwhelmed.”

“I see,” she doesn’t seem pleased about it at all.

“I’m guessing school’s over then,” and so it’s Dad’s turn.

“Yeah.”

“We ought to consider that lucky,” he smiles and Ilhoon despises it. “What with all of the uncertainty that you’d even graduate this year.”

“Could we not start—”

“Dad,” Arin jumps in as the eternally ‘better’ sibling would. “What did you say that we’re doing tomorrow?”

“Taking a trip, paying a visit to some relatives, of course.”

Frankly, Ilhoon would rather have nothing to do with such plans considering that he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place, not to mention that he doesn’t fancy a grilling from his extended family on top of his parents. And as uncertain as he feels about putting him above everything again, he’s got to get back home for a boy he’d go to the literal end of the world with. It’s now or never, after all.

 

 

 

 

Arin’s fiddling with the keys to the front door in the midst of the afternoon when she looks over her shoulder and fills Ilhoon and the parents in.

“Heading out for a walk,” she looks him right in the eye, and maybe that means something. “Ilhoon, you coming?”

He’ll assume so and tag along. He grabs his jacket, slides his shoes back on, can hardly wait to get out of here and breathe again.

Arin locks the door behind them, “You were dying to leave that room, weren’t you?”

“Was it that obvious?” he’s almost ashamed to ask back.

“Well, you’re my baby brother. I can read you,” she grins as they take a left and start to make their way along the street. “So tell me more about this situation on your hands, will you?”

“I called him—”

“Hyunsik—”

“Yes, _him_ ,” he’s sure that he’s frowning. “And he came over—no, he stayed over. I said some things, he said some things, and it all feels like we’re going back in time when we’re actually running out of it and I... I don’t know. He’s returning tonight and I just can’t figure out how I feel about it.”

“Does it feel wrong?” Arin wonders.

“Not entirely.”

“Then would you regret it if you let this opportunity slip by?”

His voice shrinks but he pushes out a murmur, “I know that I would.”

“From my point of view, Ilhoon,” she drapes an arm around him and it somehow makes him feel a bit better, this warmth when he’s been keeping to himself since he got here. “Up until the last few months, I had never seen you so broken. And if you ask me, I think you deserve that little spark of happiness again before you’re out of chances,” she turns to him and offers him a smile. “By that, I’m trying to say this isn’t right or wrong and you certainly shouldn’t beat yourself up over it either.”

He wishes he wasn’t the way he is – constantly doubting himself because there’s always that voice at the back of his mind telling him that he’s being selfish yet again, that he’s only ever going to make terrible decisions in life, that he’s nothing but trouble for everybody else. He sucks it up and hears her out.

“Just go with it,” she gives him a pat on the back before pulling her arm away. “I know he means the world to you, and in that final moment when it’s all about to be over, I don’t want you to be thinking through what you could have done but didn’t.”

“But there’s still going to be so much that I won’t have—”

“Maybe so, but do any of us have time to waste at this point?” she asks, tucking her hair that’s fallen over her cheek back behind her ear. “I don’t think that we do.”

 

 

 

 

Dinner isn’t any better than lunch, but there’s room for it to be worse. It’s just yet another hour or so to sit through, and Ilhoon’s _great_ at sitting around. He shovels spoonfuls of rice into that mouth of his each time he doesn’t feel like being part of the conversation – so, rather often – and occasionally exchanges looks with Arin that only the two of them understand. _What in the world_ , her most recent glance asks. Ilhoon wishes that he had the answer, but he’d mentally checked out minutes ago.

“Did you bring everything that you need?” he hears Mom’s voice, but doesn’t quite register her question until she calls, “Ilhoon?”

He lifts his eyes from the table, slowly, “For what?”

“Here,” she replies, and there comes the puzzled frown that Ilhoon had already seen coming. “You are staying with us, right?” she ever so slightly leans across the table, and he responds with dead silence. “You aren’t really going back, are you?”

He mumbles at her, “Yeah, I am.”

“Because?”

“I need to—”

“You don’t, unless there’s something that you’re not telling us. As usual.”

His voice dwindles even further, “I... I need to see hyung.”

“Who— _Hyunsik_? Now I thought you had finally left that poor boy alone,” her now crossed arms are accompanied by an almost exasperated sigh in her usual judgemental fashion. “Don’t tell me that you’re making him come all the way here when he should be with—”

“You don’t think that I already know? Oh, and that you’ve always thought that he was way too good for me and I’m a waste of time for somebody like him but—can’t I just have one thing—”

 _No—don’t snap like you always end up doing, don’t be so difficult. You had gotten so much better at keeping your cool, keeping it all together_ , he tells himself. _You aren’t supposed to be this person_ , he reminds himself once again, _you never were. You were supposed to be better than this._

Ilhoon takes himself away from the table, swiftly heads up the stairs and straight for the room that he had spent his childhood in. Dropping onto the bare mattress, he dreams of sinking deeper into it and into a place where he cannot be reached by anything or anyone, even if only momentarily. There he went again, making things bothersome for everybody involved. There he was, being a burden who could have just made it easy for them.

He reaches for his phone in his pocket and Hyunsik hasn’t said a thing since they had said goodbye to each other – he must be happy right now. Ilhoon pulls up his number.

 **[19:46] ilhoon:** hey, are you busy rn?

He listens to himself breathe in and out, over and over, until the screen lights up again.

 **[19:49] hyunsik:** not really

 **[19:49] hyunsik:** you?

 **[19:50] ilhoon:** me neither

 **[19:50] hyunsik:** call me

 _Shit._ Ilhoon was _going_ to get there eventually but, as if he could read his mind as always, Hyunsik’s already waiting. He goes ahead before too much time passes him by and Hyunsik starts to sense that there’s something underneath this.

“Ilhoon-ah,” he answers in barely one ring.

“Hyung, hi,” Ilhoon hesitates before getting into it – trying to be the better person that he wishes he was. “Listen, you really don’t have to leave tonight.”

“What—Ilhoon, did something happen?”

“Oh, no, I just think... you know, it’s okay if you want to stay,” he even pauses to quietly laugh to himself as a reminder to lighten up. “Be with your family. I’m sorry—”

“I’m coming back,” Hyunsik replies, and something in the sturdy tone of his voice tells Ilhoon that he’s adamant. “And, by the way, what I want more than anything right now is to see you. Now that I’ve heard your voice and checked that off of the list, I mean.”

Ilhoon’s heading back home right this second.

 

 

 

 

The apartment’s as empty as ever when Ilhoon gets in. There’s the low, incessant hum of the refrigerator coming from the kitchen, and the sound of the air conditioning unit that he had once again left on by mistake. Whatever, he’ll be dead by the time the next electricity bill is supposed to be due anyway.

He switches on a few lights but leaves the place mostly dim. All alone, he has the tendency to sit in semi-darkness – often as a result of staying put in the same place until afternoon becomes evening. This time it’s by a conscious choice, although it’s not as if he has all that much control over his life at this point either. He lounges on the couch and awaits Hyunsik’s promised return.

 **[21:09] hyunsik:** i’m outside

And now the wait until the knock on the door begins, which mostly means figuring out the most appropriate way to greet Hyunsik. He had left Ilhoon with a kiss, albeit a tiny one, so they’re at least on hugging terms, no? But would there be a hint of desperation in that, he wonders—oh, _come on_ , this isn’t a budding relationship between two almost strangers. Far from it.

Yet that entire thought process leaves Ilhoon’s mind completely the second that he registers Hyunsik’s fist against the door. He scurries over to let him in.

A flash of eye contact – over as soon as it started – a rush of blood to the face as Ilhoon instinctively lowers his head. Hyunsik looks—well, of course he looks beautiful. He’s wearing thin silver-framed glasses for some reason and they suit him too much for his own good.

“I know that you can see,” Ilhoon jokes, shutting the door behind Hyunsik once he’s stepped inside. He laughs.

Then Ilhoon turns—freezes right in his tracks when Hyunsik’s far closer than he had expected with _that_ awful stare. The one that makes him all weak on the inside, melts something deep in there so that he somehow cannot move. Neither does Hyunsik.

He utters just under his breath, “I missed you.”

He takes a step forwards, Ilhoon takes one back without meaning to, his elbows hit the door – the two of them are too predictable.

Hyunsik’s voice stays low when he asks, “Did you miss me too?”

It takes longer than a second for Ilhoon to even nod – just the sound of Hyunsik’s voice again is enough to start spirals in his mind, spinning his thoughts into each other until they become all mixed up and nothing makes sense anymore.

“How was it?” Hyunsik asks next.

“Good,” Ilhoon tells him, watching the smile appear on his face as he believes him.

“Ilhoon-ah,” he mutters with a tenderness in his tone as he continues to close the gap between them, second by second.

And another second until his lips are on Ilhoon’s for the most innocent kiss, followed by another, then the touch of his hands on his body as they together press up against the surface of the door. He savours the light taste of mint on Hyunsik’s tongue for a brief moment before they’re somehow making their way towards the couch, clumsily knocking into the coffee table mid-journey. Ilhoon’s back lands across the soft seats, Hyunsik on top of him, and his tongue licks his.

The blood in his veins running all the way up to his face is flowing fast, the fastest it’s been in months, and it’s absolutely dizzying. Hyunsik’s eyes are fully shut as Ilhoon blinks his, repeatedly, in an attempt to come to his senses.

“ _Hyung_ —I lied,” he spits it out and waits for the look on Hyunsik’s face as he pulls back – pitiful. “We argued. I messed up. Again.”

“It happens,” he simply replies.

“Because it’s me. Always is,” Ilhoon’s voice cracks in the tiniest way and he shakes his head, gaze lowered now. “You should have stayed. That—that’s why I told you—”

“ _Stop._ This has gone on for long enough,” Hyunsik interrupts him as if he’s fed up, but the sound of his voice still tells him that he’d wait forever if he had to. He really would. “The only people this concerns is the two of us, and we both want the same thing, so why—”

There’s a slight sting in the corners of Ilhoon’s eyes when he says it, “Because you deserve so much more than this, and I... I just can’t give you that.”

And Hyunsik does what he does best – makes everything feel like nothing. All it takes is his arms, full of perfect warmth and some kind of unparalleled security, enveloping Ilhoon in the firmest yet kindest manner. He lies there, limp in his embrace as his eyes close, and his mind finally starts to clear of the stubborn clouds that had been building up in there. He still loves him. He still knows that this isn’t the way things are supposed to be. In another world, they will get the ending that they wanted.

He feels the thudding inside of his chest quicken as he hears Hyunsik breathe, then murmur something so quietly that it takes a moment to figure out what.

“The only thing that I want anymore is you.”


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, happy new year x2, and what have you. an excuse? um... haha, sorry, i got caught up in life if you know what i mean. well, better late than never. this _will_ be finished someday, although i may post something else before then.
> 
> anyway! if you’ll forgive me, i’ll be responding to comments shortly. thanks for your patience!

Being hyperaware of another person’s existence once more is odder than Ilhoon recalls. Only being able to sleep after Hyunsik has drifted off first was a distant memory – he had managed to shake that unease with the help of a lot of time and getting used to, and in vain as he’s back to where he had started again. He doesn’t quite remember when he finally fell asleep last night, but it was to the hum of Hyunsik’s breathing, the way it gets heavier when he’s no longer conscious. Ilhoon reckons that it lulls him to sleep.

Perhaps that’s why he’d had trouble.

He senses an itch as soon as he’s fully awake, though not a physical one under his skin. He knows it too well. Grabbing what he needs as he does every morning, he makes his way out of Hyunsik’s hold, out onto the balcony. He slides the door to an almost close, and looks out to the sky.

 _It hasn’t looked this beautiful in a while_ , a voice in his head – perhaps his own – says to him. _Or has it always looked this way?_

He twiddles the cigarette between his fingers before flicking the lighter. It feels as if it’ll be empty soon.

 _I wonder if I can survive_ , he definitely muses to himself this time between a much-needed inhale. _It’s just a few more days. It’s nothing. You’ve made it this far despite—_

His heart hits the back of his chest at the same time as the door opening again, and he whisks himself around to find, well, of course it’s Hyunsik standing right there.

“You’re awake,” Ilhoon’s still slightly startled – as his mind repeats what he just said, it sounds more and more like his words didn’t come out right.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Hyunsik simply smiles at him and his voice—that low, awake-yet-not-quite- _awake_ voice—has Ilhoon bite down on his bottom lip to avoid appearing _too_ pleased.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he rolls his eyes instead.

“Still grumpy in the morning, hm?” Hyunsik tilts his head just a bit before taking a few too many steps closer.

He reaches out without it actually registering in Ilhoon’s mind right away for some reason, and he takes the cigarette from his fingers without any resistance. He slips it between his lips and breathes it in, slowly, like he’s still hesitant at heart.

“Thought you had quit,” Ilhoon mutters, not even trying to be smart here.

“I’m terrible at giving things up,” Hyunsik shrugs at him. “Barely a minute breathing this in and I’m craving it, not even a second with you again and I knew you were all that I want.”

“God, you’re so _deep_ ,” Ilhoon almost allows himself to grin back.

Hyunsik quirks an eyebrow, “Says you, Mr. I-spent-my-teen-years-writing-depressing-poetry.”

They both laugh – in unison. For a second, it takes Ilhoon back to the days of getting to know Hyunsik, the first time that they had a silly little moment just like this and Ilhoon’s guard began to come away.

“You’re really reminding me how I ended up in this mess of _liking_ you in the first place,” he concludes.

Hyunsik evidently takes that as a compliment with the smug look on his face. At least Ilhoon doesn’t hate it.

When they finish sharing that cigarette between them, Hyunsik’s arms make their way around Ilhoon’s shoulders as the light breeze of the morning skims their skin and brushes at their hair. The warmth of Hyunsik’s breath distinguishes itself from the wind, and Ilhoon didn’t realise that he had missed it against the back of his ear as much as this until now.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Hyunsik doesn’t really suggest as much as decides. “Let’s just... get away from this place for a bit. The city, I mean.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ilhoon replies without asking where, as being here all the time is beginning to seem suffocating. People everywhere who’ll suffer the same fate, the confines of the apartment in which he’ll most likely see the end of a short yet wearing life – grim reality never rests.

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon hops into Hyunsik’s car with him in the driver’s seat just after the clock hits three. Still, he has no idea where exactly that they’re headed. He likes it that way, though – allowing even the smallest of surprises in the direst of times. It gives him something to look forward to before there’s nothing left. That’s the least he can do for himself, he supposes.

They’ve got the windows partly rolled down and Hyunsik’s phone is hooked up to the speakers, going through one of his carefully-curated playlists of vintage songs. Typical – they’re looking every bit the free spirits of a clichéd teen road trip flick. Well, it’s not as if reality doesn’t feel like some blockbuster sci-fi movie right now. In a way, this probably makes sense.

It’s not long until they’re past the outskirts of the city and flying faster along roads unfamiliar to Ilhoon. Catching a glimpse of a sign among the trees blurred into each other, he thinks that he has a hunch now. This’ll be good for them, he reckons. This could clear their minds just for a while.

The pale blue of the sea reflecting the sun comes into view and, with the place near deserted, Hyunsik pulls up wherever he pleases. There are a few people already scattered across the strip of sand, but not anything like what Ilhoon tends to imagine when he thinks about the beach on a day with decent weather. It actually seems peaceful – just what he needs.

“When was the last time that you went to the beach?” Hyunsik asks, opening the door on his own side.

“When I was with you,” Ilhoon is sure.

He doesn’t recall when that was now, except that the weather was rather fair as well. However, he does remember times when they had mentioned coming back again but never did – or had the chance to. It’s funny how things work out, if this may even be called as such. Now that he thinks about it, they were to go on vacation one day, someday, who knows when. They hadn’t gotten that far with planning.

“The kind of place that I long for the most whenever I want a piece of freedom,” Hyunsik turns to Ilhoon as they take a step towards the sand.

He sets down a towel, big enough for the two of them, not too close to the shore should the wind become uneasy. Sitting down, the gently rolling waves remain visible, and today they almost melt into the sky as one. Ilhoon supposes that he likes it like this – not overly sunny like a day in the middle of August, nor dull like it would have been a month or two ago. It doesn’t exactly feel joyful here, but something inside of him certainly feels less heavy.

“Oh—” he doesn’t mean to react quite so vocally the second that Hyunsik’s arm grazes the top of his back before it wraps around him, bringing his shoulder into his chest. His touch still seems somewhat foreign.

“Hm? You don’t want me to—”

“No, it’s not that,” Ilhoon leans into him further to prove it. “I was just thinking.”

“Sorry for interrupting you.”

He shrugs, “Maybe it’d be better for me if I just started thinking less.”

“Talk to me,” Hyunsik requests, his voice low and smooth like a dream.

It only takes a moment for Ilhoon to contemplate it. Although the back of his mind constantly reminds him that it isn’t so, the vast sea in front of them keeps on convincing him that forever is still ahead.

“I feel like I’m floating,” he admits. “I feel like none of this is even real. Am I happy? Am I completely lost? I don’t even know anymore.”

“I feel that too. It’s like my heart is telling me that there’s so much still out there, so much yet to come, when I know that it’s going to be the end.”

“I can’t always tell with you,” Ilhoon looks at him rather fondly, unsure of why he may even be smiling right now. “You’re good. A real adult. You know how to hide things.”

“I think it’s more that I want to be strong for you,” he replies.

Because they both know that if Ilhoon were to see Hyunsik cry, this whole thing would suddenly hit him for real, harder than ever, like a struggling dam finally breaking apart against an unforgiving river that had been pounding at it for the longest time, begging it to let it through. Because he’s the one who can never seem to grow up, and Hyunsik’s his crutch to cling onto now, or rather once again.

“Well, thank you,” he rests the side of his face against Hyunsik’s shoulder. “No, really. I mean—not that you should hide how you feel, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I’ve been trying to focus on what matters,” he glances away for an instant. “There’s you and there’s me.”

And there’s a whole damn asteroid in the sky. A pang strikes Ilhoon’s chest as he lets out an unsteady sigh.

“Could I tell you something,” he murmurs.

“Go for it.”

“I’m starting to realise that having been so set in my ways is one of the reasons why I’m finding this so tough,” his eyes fixate on his legs outstretched in front of him. “The thought of death is weird—I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I’ve never really been that bothered by it. At times, I actually... I even wanted it to happen, but I didn’t want to _do_ anything, if that makes sense at all. But right now, I feel different about it.”

“You keep on forgetting how smart you actually are—”

“I don’t want to die, hyung,” he doesn’t mean to let it out so suddenly. “I’d always thought that I’d be okay with it, but I can’t lie. I’m not.”

“Ilhoon...”

“I wish that I could stay with you, just like this, forever,” he pauses to allow himself to breathe. “I wish that we had more time than this.”

Hyunsik takes his hand without him realising right away, and holds it tight, “So we make the most of what we do have,” he smiles again. “What are any of us supposed to do in a situation like this,” and then it’s gone. “Nothing could have prepared us for this, no, but we... this is—it’s so hard, Ilhoon, it’s so, so hard. I’m sorry, I just—I don’t know what to say anymore.”

His grasp loosens from Ilhoon’s when his face seeks refuge in his own hand. The sight of him – Im Hyunsik of all people – so worn down when he ordinarily does such an incredible job at holding his head up high is surreal. Ilhoon senses a pulse in the pit of his stomach that reminds him that he’s still very much alive and in this world.

“Your words are enough for me,” he offers, though it isn’t much.

Still, Hyunsik looks back over at him, and he doesn’t quite appear broken. Not as much as Ilhoon had expected.

“I don’t want to die either,” Hyunsik shakes his head as he speaks. “But, _God_ , it’s so hard when the thought of it is constantly bubbling back up to the surface and I’m trying to push it down. That’s what it feels like.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose, and the way his eyes are now gazing at Ilhoon seems to have a glint to it, a sparkle in the darkness.

“But whenever I look at you again, I see light. I see radiant sunlight in your smile, when you show it, and I suddenly forget everything. Just for a moment,” he says, almost lyrically. “Guess that hyung’s not as strong as he tries to seem, huh?”

“You are,” Ilhoon immediately refutes. “You didn’t have to come back. You didn’t have to do anything for me.”

“I’m selfish,” Hyunsik unexpectedly grins in response, perhaps ashamedly. “That’s all.”

“So am I.”

Ilhoon simply blinks and he’s enveloped by Hyunsik’s arms, pulling him closer than before and he’s all that he can feel now. Hyunsik’s chest heaves against his, but something about it is comforting. Perhaps it’s just knowing that he’s here for real, intending to reach the end of the world with him – not even figuratively. Ilhoon shuts his eyes and holds on tight.

 

 

 

 

The sun sets later than it used to now, so it’s still quite bright out here. All that they’ve been doing is talking, savouring each other’s company while this lasts, reminiscing the days of when they were on top of the universe. Ilhoon’s feelings have barely changed since the afternoon that he came to realise that he had utterly fallen for Hyunsik. His heart is as stubborn as he is.

“When I asked you out for the first time,” Hyunsik starts to laugh as he recalls one of the best memories of their lives. “We ended up spending almost an entire day together.”

“A gallery, then lunch. A movie, then dinner,” Ilhoon nods.

“I didn’t want it to end,” Hyunsik lets out a sigh, but out of fondness. “In my head, I kept begging time to slow down just that once.”

“It always seems to go by too quickly when I’m with you.”

And up until now, it had been dragging at a snail’s pace. Ilhoon woke up every day just to wait for it to end again – part of him wishes that it was still that way, but he realises that he wouldn’t trade Hyunsik away for the world. Literally. If he were presented with such a choice, would he truly stay set in his selfishness just to remain by Hyunsik’s side? He stops thinking about it before he begins to loathe himself again.

Hyunsik stands up without a word. He steps away from the towel and digs the tip of his shoe into the sand. Ilhoon watches just as silently as he drags his feet, creating a line. He pauses to shoot him a quick glance, a crafty little smile too, before continuing. Ilhoon figures out what exactly he’s trying to do before he finishes, yet he still lets it get to him when Hyunsik arrives at where he had started.

A heart, and the two of them inside of it. Ilhoon also gets on his feet to take a better look at it. It’s a bit lopsided with one half noticeably rounder than the other, and that’s just fine. The perfectionist in Hyunsik doesn’t seem to care today.

He goes wandering off for a moment, still saying nothing as Ilhoon looks on. He soon returns with a twig that was lying nearby.

“And now what, Picasso?”

Hyunsik begins to write this time, inside the bottom of the heart. He takes his time to make his letters neat as if it even matters. Staying put, Ilhoon reads them upside down, one at a time.

He would be cringing at this very instant if they were any other two people on the planet and he was witnessing this as an outsider – but they aren’t, and he isn’t. The sentimentality somehow overtakes the triteness of it all by miles and, instead of an instinctive reaction to turn away in a sort of shame, Ilhoon’s eyes fog from the water beginning to seep in.

_IM HYUNSIK + JUNG ILHOON ∞_

 

 

 

 

 _Together, forever, that’s how it must be;_  
_To live without you would only mean heartbreak for me—_

The radio finally gets switched off when it starts to bother Ilhoon on the way back home. They could plug in Hyunsik’s phone again but, knowing him, he has the exact same songs on there anyway – reminders of what doesn’t exist in the real world. To only the sound of the car on the road now, Ilhoon turns to his left.

Hyunsik’s eyes are fixed right ahead, his face appearing expressionless although it’s rather dark now and it’s hard to tell. Every time the glow of a street light hits his face, the contours of his face become a bit clearer again, just for a fleeting moment. He’s fully focused.

Ilhoon gazes out of the window by his side instead. The night sky looks empty tonight; he scans the pitch black for a single star, but soon gives up when he fails to spot any. That’s funny. He can’t help but now wonder if it’s often like this and he had never noticed.

_Will I miss this?_

Nonsense – as if he’s ever cared at all in the past few years. The sky is just the sky, no matter the time or the day. If the world wasn’t about to burst into flames or whatever its fate may be, he wouldn’t even be giving this a second thought.

_Still, I used to look forward to being able to make a wish on the first star that I saw at night._

Back when he had a lust for life and hadn’t become so jaded, perhaps. When he had all of the hope in the universe and an endless path laid out in front of him, or was simply a naïve child. He lets out a sigh to himself and it’s masked by the sound of Hyunsik speeding along the highway.

_What happened to me anyway?_

He glances out the window once more and a twinkle catches his eye by chance – it’s the only star he can see in the entire sky. As if he had asked for it and somebody actually heard him, it oddly instills a glimmer of hope in his heart and he shuts his eyes to give whoever that may be another request, whether or not anything can come of it.

“We’re almost home,” Hyunsik announces, temporarily taking a hand from the steering wheel to place it on Ilhoon’s lap as they continue down the linear road.

There’s something about hearing ‘we’ that feels and sounds complete, and it’s as if that place is now considered ‘their’ home. It’s like they’ve been given the chance that they’ve been after, against all odds, maybe too late, yet they could be okay with that. _Okay_ – not over the moon, no, but accepting of what it is regardless. Leaning back in his seat, his hair flattening against the headrest, Ilhoon silently nods to himself.

_Yes, let’s go and live the rest of our lives together._


End file.
